“You’re revoltingly optimistic.”
That chiseled his hard expression into a softer one. “One of us has to be. Besides, have you ever met a pessimistic hero?”
I rolled my eyes as we started toward the train. When I skidded twice and almost face-planted into the rubble, my equilibrium impaired by the limb locked against my torso, Remo took my flailing hand and held it. I tried to squirm my fingers out of his, but he simply squeezed harder, sealing my palm against his calloused one.
“Stop fidgeting, Trifecta. I’m trying to help you, not seduce you.”
His words made me grow hot all over. Even though I still wanted to put a mile between our bodies, I stopped fighting him.
“I didn’t think you were seducing me,” I grumbled. “I just don’t like to be coddled.”
A smile knocked into his lips. “I thought princesses loved to be coddled.”
“You know nothing about princesses.”
“How about you teach me about what it’s like to grow up with a legion of faerie guards at your disposal and a brigade of servants at your beck and call?”
“Are you making fun of me?”
His smile collapsed, and he scratched a spot behind his ear. “No, Amara. I really am curious.”
His edginess, combined with the use of my first name, made me relent. “It’s overwhelming. Everyone’s always judging you, evaluating your needs, jumping to attention when you enter a room. Not to mention the carousel of guards doesn’t give me much time to build relationships with any of them.”
His brows dipped. “Guards are appointed to protect you, not to chat with you.”
“I got that.”
After a beat, he ventured, “It can’t be all bad, though.”
“No. But it’s not . . . it’s not always easy to set the right example. Tobethe right example. I spent most of my childhood dreaming I didn’t have so many powers, because power gets you attention, and sometimes”—I peered up at him—“denigrating nicknames.”
An octagonal metal stop sign groaned and bowed under his boots. “Sometimes nicknames are born of jealousy.”
“You’re jealous of me?”
He peered down at me through his dark auburn lashes. “Who isn’t? You haveeverything. You’re even pretty. You could’ve at least been born with some facial warts or a weak chin.”
I blinked at him. “You think I’m pretty?”
His forehead crinkled as though my question were causing him physical pain. “On the outside.”
If both my hands hadn’t been immobilized, I would’ve smacked him. “You’re such an ass.”
His eyes blazed greener. “I’m more than just a great body part.”
I shook my head as we trampled over the station sign, the one printed with the town’s name. It felt like we’d arrived here a week ago, and yet it couldn’t have been more than a day since we got sucked through the portal. Maybe even less than a day.
“What does my grandfather have on your father?” Remo asked suddenly.
His question brought me to a stop, which in turn brought him to a stop. I released his hand, and he didn’t protest because we’d reached the platform where my risk of nosediving was minimal. “What do you mean?”
“There’s no way your father would’ve agreed to marry his only child off to the grandson of a man he barely tolerates if he has nothing to gain from the union.”
I slid my bottom lip between my teeth. “I can’t discuss it.”
His stance shifted, his feet settling farther apart and his knees locking, and then he crossed his arms. “Why?”
“Because . . .”Ugh. How was I supposed to tell someone who’d saved my behind more than once that I didn’t fully trust him?
